


you're addictive

by djarinbarnes



Series: Sebastian Stan [14]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Depression, Drug Use, F/M, Fluff, I promise it'll be sweet, Maybe a bit of PTSD, Mental Health Issues, Smut, Suicidal Thoughts, This fic sounds really depressing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-12-26
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:15:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27578362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/djarinbarnes/pseuds/djarinbarnes
Summary: Bucky Barnes had everything he could ask for, but not what he needed. What he did need was unreachable. Until he met her. She was good for him. But it didn’t last. Nothing in his life ever did. He never imagined how hard it was to get back from it.
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader
Series: Sebastian Stan [14]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1553680
Comments: 8
Kudos: 13





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> okay... I know I suck at finishing stories......... please forgive me? <3

_An angel._

_Something ethereal._

_If he had to describe her the first time, he’d seen her, that was exactly how he would describe her. A presence so heavenly, she could’ve only been sent from the gods themselves. The way her laugh filled the void in his heart with joy and a feeling of belonging made him question everything._

_He had to know her. Her mahogany locks cascading down her back, her hazel eyes soft as syrup, her lips plump and kissable. When she’d introduced herself with a warm, flirty smile, he tasted the feel of her name on his lips._

_Dolores._

_He’d fallen for her from the second he laid eyes on her. He’d felt a sense of belonging from the first time her laughter filled his ears._

_He’d asked her on a date, just one date. He promised her that she would be coming back for more, with a glint playing in his eyes. She’d said yes._

_One date turned into many. They’d had the best dates, the best walks. Soon after, the best sex. She was the epitome of perfect to him._

_He fell head over heels for her within the first month._

_He fell in love with the way she would giggle at his touches, the small kisses she would leave on his cheeks, the nudge against his nose she would do before they fell asleep beside one another._

_He fell in love with the way her body convulsed around his, the way her body reacted to his, the way she gave into him. He’d never felt anything like it, and he relished in the euphoria she brought along with her._

_Within the second month, he’d basically moved into her apartment. He was there more than in his own, waiting for her to come back from her college classes. He didn’t know why he never did more to get a job, other than the unauthorized businesses he did around town._

_He didn’t actually need a job. His father had come to wealth at a young age, getting into stocks successfully at 21, becoming a millionaire at 25._

_George Barnes had met Winnie Buchanan shortly before her 18 th birthday, and the two of them quickly grew inseparable. Within a year they’d sealed the deal, and soon after Winnie had given birth to a son._

_Even though Winnie wanted a big family, George withstood, claiming it would only cause more obstacles in their lives. Given so, Bucky was a lonely, only child. If you asked his father during his young years, Bucky was no good._

_That was probably why George was traveling all the time, bringing his young wife along with him, yet leaving the small boy with a babysitter._

_Even though the boy had everything he could ask for or possibly want, one thing lacked. One thing money couldn’t buy him. The love from his parents._

_When Winnie had fallen pregnant when Bucky was seven years old, George had been outraged. They had fought for many nights, keeping the boy awake, crying and shivering in his bed. Sleep would overcome him through tears most nights, and when the sixth night passed, he vowed to himself that he would do anything in the world to keep his baby sister safe._

_All throughout middle school, Bucky changed the way he thought of everything, focusing on getting good grades so he could help his sister when she would enroll. Even if he made an effort, he would never brag about it to anyone._

_He would simply put up a façade, pretending like he didn’t care. He didn’t know what he wanted to prove. All he knew was, that he had to make his father proud of him one way or another._

_When Bucky graduated from high school with a GPA of 4.10, the only one who showed up was his little sister, cheering him on. Their parents were abroad, leaving them to their own company. It hurt more than Bucky wanted to admit._

_Enrolling into college was no challenge. That’s where he met her. Dolores. He dropped out fairly quickly, though, the façade pretending he didn’t care turning into reality. The parties were somewhat more interesting, and it had stirred something inside him. Just like she had done._

_The parties made him feel alive again, in just another way than Dolores did. He was popular at the gatherings, always witty with a joke and always knew the right way around a bottle of alcohol. There wasn’t ever just one drink. Everything would spiral into heavy hangovers._

_When one of the guys, Brock, if he recalled correctly, had pulled out a bag of white powder from his pocket, Bucky had thought no obstacle was too big for him to overcome. He’d had a lot to drink before inhaling the delicate powder from the mirror._

_The first comedown was immense. He felt as if he’d been sleeping for days, even though it had only been a couple of hours. Blue eyes had glanced around, hovering slightly over the hazy surroundings. He had been there before. He couldn’t quite place it, though._

_Every noise around him was loud, every movement in front of his eyes made him dizzy. He felt as if he was flying, though. He felt careless and free. Nothing could hurt him. Just until the high was over. Everything changed when it was over._

_He needed more._

_The second comedown was more bearable. There was no alcohol this time. Only the cocaine. He didn’t feel bad. That was until he saw the look in Dolores’ face when she barged into her barricaded apartment._

_He didn’t even remember how the dining table ended up in front of the front door. In fact, he didn’t recall how her whole apartment ended up rearranged, now looking like a bomb had been dropped in the middle of the room._

_“James, what in the world happened here?” Her eyes widened as she took in the state which he was in, eyes shut tightly, his shirt soaked with sweat. He let out a groan as he sat up, rubbing his sensitive eyes with a heavy hand. His voice was raspy as he spoke. He didn’t even sound like himself anymore._

_“I don’t know. Let’s get this cleaned up…”_

_It soon became a habit. Bucky was barely feeling like himself any longer, if he didn’t get his magical fix. He knew he was good at concealing his high so Dolores wouldn’t notice. It was almost too easy. It was like she wanted him to fall into the void where everything was just… easier._

_Months passed, and Bucky felt their relationship escalating. He noticed Dolores had started staying at college longer, excusing every late night as studying. He simply nodded, before locking himself in the bathroom, taking another line on her hand-held mirror before getting into bed with her._

_Their sex was mind blowing. After Bucky had started, everything felt wilder. More vivid. More intense. He knew he satisfied her. He knew how to work her body, how to make her writhe underneath him. He knew how to make her come at just a flick of his wrist. And he could last for hours on his high._

_He took her everywhere in her apartment. Over every surface of furniture, against every wall. He marked her body as his with every thrust._

_But as those months passed, she started turning him down. She complained about being too tired, having migraines and feeling nauseous. He brushed it off and got his fix with the drugs in the bathroom, nonetheless. His addiction quickly grew into more. He couldn’t get enough. He needed something stronger._

_He spent their one-year anniversary alone, high on cocaine. Dolores didn’t come home that night. One week passed, and that’s when his world crumbled._

_He didn’t know how he ended up there. He didn’t know any of the people present – he recognized solely one face from somewhere he couldn’t place. He approached one of the men, call it his instinct, and held out a 10-dollar bill. It was replaced with a spoon, a bag, a syringe and a bottle of water._

_The man pointed to the end of the RV before quickly stuffing the thick, short straw back into his nostril, inhaling another lungful of white, think smoke. His eyes rolled back into his head as Bucky watched him relish in the feeling. Chasing the dragon._

_Bucky turned on his heel and sat himself down heavily on the only bed at the back of the caravan, mixing up the water and heroin, before pulling out his lighter and snapping it open under the substance._

_He watched intensely as the white powder slowly mixed with the liquid, sizzling and bubbling in the small, rounded steel spoon. When it was finally cleared up, he blew on it softly before grabbing the plunger of the syringe between his teeth, sucking the substance up into the barrel._

_His head was going a thousand miles an hour. The needle in his hand felt heavy, just as heavy as his itchy eyelids. He sniffed deeply, sighing, letting out a shaky breath. He blinked a couple of times, maybe to ground himself. He didn’t succeed._

_Her words resonated in his head. The look on her face, that he would always remember._

_“Bucky don’t look at me like that.” her eyes were filled with immense pain and heartbreak. His were glossy, wide, pleading. ”I can’t love you when you’re like this. You’re scaring me.”_ _Her bottom lip trembled as tears streaked her cheeks with black._

_Then the inevitable revelation came. The one he had dreaded since they got together. “I’ve fallen in love with someone else. I’m sorry.”_

_She threw him out shortly after. She ditched him like he was a simple piece of trash._

_He felt the tears plunge down his cheeks as he threw the syringe onto the bed, letting out a heart wrenching scream. He gritted his teeth before taking a deep breath, biting his lip harshly, the taste of iron filling his mouth. He leant forward, hiding his eyes within his hands, sobbing out as his chest racked painfully._

_He sucked in a deep breath through his nose, hitting his forehead repeatedly with closed fists. He hated it. Himself. Everything. Grabbing one end of a piece of cloth, the other end in his right hand, he tightened it around his left bicep, maybe a little tighter than necessary._

_He sniffed before calming himself, hands shaking as he picked up the syringe yet again, twisting it between his fingers. He didn’t know how much to take, but in this moment, he didn’t care. He watched as the vein protruded under the skin seducingly._

_Just as he blinked a tear away, his eyesight grew clearer and the needle penetrated his skin. One full push. The loosening of the fabric. He dropped the syringe as he laid back on the dirty covers. He took a deep breath as his mind turned foggy. It felt as if his soul left his body, and all he felt was peace._

_He startled awake. The smell filling his nostrils was a mixture of a pub and mold. His eyes felt heavy and dry, like they’d been open for a long time. His hands found the brittle skin around his eyes, his fingers digging into the flesh._

_It stung. His eyes watered as he blinked a couple of times, before pushing himself to sit. His throat was completely desiccated and rough._

_He took in his surroundings. He was in an old, rundown RV. At the moment, he didn’t remember how he ended up there. He noticed the drugs scattered around, the used syringes, the mirrors, the thick straws. People were scattered around as well, in a drug-induced haze. Their eyes were rolling around their skulls unsettlingly, and it made Bucky shudder._

_He tripped over his own limbs as he got up to find something to drink. He fell to his knees in front of the small buzzing fridge and tore the door open. A jar of pickles, a tube of mayonnaise and a bar of chocolate. He groaned in discomfort as he felt the nausea take over his senses once more._

_He fell face first when he leaned against the door as it gave away under his weight. His arm felt funny, like someone had short-circuited it. He gazed at his fingers, blue and swollen and he tripped over his feet all the way to the transformer tower._

_He leant on the steel structure, emptying the contents of his stomach in the grass. His dry heaving became erratic, his lungs begging for air. He squeezed his eyes together and felt the tears running steadily down his cheeks._

_Was life worth this? Was there even a reason he was still here? He didn’t know anymore. He didn’t feel like it anymore._

_He stumbled a few steps to the side and rested his back against the hard, cold steel. He slowly sank into the grass and his eyes fell on the sky._

_There were a few sporadic cloud formations scattered on the blue canvas the sky was._

_One cloud caught his attention. Some would call it abnormal. Other would go to the lengths of calling it beautiful. Stretching far and wide, hollow in some places, full in others. He felt like the cloud depicted him somehow._

_He sat there in the grass for a long time, wondering if his time had come. Whether it was now, that it was his turn to leave this world. His eyes rose back up to the cloud, watching as it slowly but surely disappeared into nothing. As his eyes finally slipped closed, he suddenly felt a sense of freedom._

_Free from the pain._

_Free from the expectations._

_Free from his body._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas folks!  
> I hope you had a good one.
> 
> I don't really know how to feel about this one.  
> Enjoy though!

The steady beeping of the heart monitor was the only sound present. Slow. Steady. The IV drop made soft, plinking noises that were somewhat calming. 

It was terrible, though. Seeing the guy who always appeared so strong, look so broken. He sucked in a breath as his fingers grazed the pale skin of Bucky’s cheekbone. The tears welled up in his eyes yet again. 

Bucky’s skin was pale. Almost transparent. His hair was matted. It had lost that shine it usually held. He just didn’t look like himself. In all the years he’d known him, he’d looked less and less like the Bucky he used to know.

He’d been by Bucky’s side ever since he got the call that he’d been found. Three days had passed by now, and there hadn’t been any sign of life from him. A few short movements of Bucky’s fingers and the beeping from the monitor were the only thing that let him know he was still alive.

“Not yet, Buck. You promised.”

_ Two young boys. Laughing. Having no cares in the world. Sky blue finding dusty blue orbs over the table, markers swishing violently over the paper. _

_ One glides across the expensive tabletop.  _

_ “Bucky!” a gasp leaves the younger, smaller boy. “Your daddy isn’t going to be happy about it!” _

_ Bucky’s eyes fill with fear. He looked around the lavish kitchen, for anything that could rid the marble of the red marker. Both boys get up and look through the different cabinets, finding something that smells like it could remove ink. _

_ “This will do!” Bucky holds up the crystal canister of foul-smelling concoction. Steve holds out a paper towel over the marble table, while Bucky pours a good amount of liquid on top of it. They wipe the marker off quick and effectively, while grinning at each other. _

_ “You know what Stevie? We’re gonna be friends forever. I promise I’ll never leave you!” _

_ An angry voice fills the room from behind them. _

_ “James Buchanan Barnes!”  _

_ They both turn with wide eyes, bodies frozen as they turn. His father is standing in the doorway, keeping a close eye on the $1200 whiskey in his son’s hand, and half of the contents slithering across the tabletop. _

_ “Where the hell is your babysitter?” Bucky winces as his father yanks the bottle out of his small hand, the sound of a firm smack filling the room shortly after. _

_ Steve’s eyes are wide as he watches Bucky stare into nothing. The skin on Bucky’s left cheek is visibly reddening, and Steve gulps as he looks up at Mr. Barnes. Steve hears Mr. Barnes yelling, but he doesn’t hear what he’s saying. Steve watches his nostrils flaring, eyes burning as he gesticulates wildly with his arms. _

_ Tears fall from his best friend’s eyes, bottom lip quivering. Steve knew, in that moment, that he would do everything to protect his best friend. _

__

“I’m sorry Buck. I should’ve done better to protect you.” He holds onto the warm hand, like he’d done for so many hours. He barely registers the nurses coming in and out of the room. He only looks at his former best friend.

He looks dead. Even laying there, lifeless and with tubes everywhere, he looks peaceful and it tears at Steve’s heart. He closes his eyes and lets out a breath, wishing for something. Anything.

A groan spills from Bucky’s lips. He squeezes his eyes together, lifting his left hand to rub at his eyes. His eyebrows furrow as his fingers never make contact with the skin. Steve watches with sorrowful eyes as his best friend groans, turning on the bed.

Bucky’s chapped lips move just slightly, his tongue coming out to wet his lip. Steve quickly grabs a glass of water, bringing a straw to Bucky’s lips. Steve reaches over and pulls the red string behind the brunet, calling for a doctor.

“Come on Buck. Open up.” It happens slowly, but surely. Steve watches as his friend empties the glass quickly. His eyes open slowly, looking around him, taking in his surroundings. Bucky groggily lets go of Steve’s hand, finally rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

“What happened?” Bucky winces as the words strain his vocal cords. He barely remembers anything. He yawns, feeling the exhaustion overtake his body, making him even more drowsy than he already was.

“Bucky…” Steve starts, the words getting caught in his throat. The tears well up in his eyes and he looks down, trying to fight the inevitable. “You almost overdosed. You scared the shit out of me.” 

It comes out as a mere whisper from Steve’s lips, and the breaths barely made it fully into his lungs. “When did it get this bad?”

His eyes shoot up to look at Bucky. He didn’t register anything. Bucky’s eyes avoided Steve’s. “They weren’t able to salvage your arm.” 

That one got Bucky’s attention. He looks at Steve like he’s got two heads and 17 eyes. “What’d you just say?” Bucky whispers.

Steve motions with his hand at Bucky’s left side. Bucky doesn’t dare look, but his right hand finds its way over his body, feeling around the empty space where his arm was supposed to be. Steve hears the sharp intake of a breath, before he watches Bucky’s head snap around.

“What the fuck.” Bucky’s head falls back against the bed. It feels like the world opened beneath his feet and is now sucking him into oblivion. He whispers out again. “Oh my god.” Steve doesn’t know what to say. He has nothing to say. Someone breaks the silence.

“Bucky, you’re awake!” Bucky’s head snaps to the door, taking in his sister in the doorway. He hasn’t seen her for years. He faintly remembers the last time he saw her, when she told him she never wanted to see him again. He actually didn’t remember when he saw any of his former friends.

Friends. 

Did he really still have any? Apparently, he did, since Steve was sitting at his bed. 

_ Steve. _

He hadn’t talked to Steve since they graduated high school more than five years ago. He recalled something about… Seeing him one time at the store, one time when Bucky had shoplifted something he could exchange for his next fix.

How did Steve even find him? He must’ve asked out loud, since he got an answer. He didn’t recognize the voice. It came from behind his sister, belonging to a woman he didn’t recognize. He was usually good at remembering people.

“I found you on the side of the road.” The woman kept her stance behind his sister. “I recognized you immediately. I thought you were dead.”

Bucky squeezed his eyes shut, sucking in a deep breath. It felt like the walls were closing in on him. He shuddered, hand coming up to cradle what was left of his arm. 

“I’m happy you found him when you did, y/n.” Bucky heard Steve say, and then he remembered her. 

Then it all came back to him. Somehow, he remembered, little by little. He felt his heart fall into his stomach. He remembered _her._ Vividly.

Red hair, hazel eyes. Dot.

The woman he’d given the world, or tried to, only to be thrown out like trash. A tear fell down his cheek as he looked into the distance, trying to remember everything he’d loved about her. He felt the bile rise in his throat as the memories came back to him. 

He leant over the edge of the bed, emptying the contents of his stomach onto the floor. He hated feeling weak. Exposed. He retched, throat going dry.

A hand grabbed his while another one landed softly against his back and he looked up into unfamiliar eyes. Or somewhat familiar. He remembered them, but just barely. It’d been ten years since he’d seen her. Maybe even more. 

_ Y/n.  _

He knew Becca had a best friend. And he knew that that friend had been there for longer than he remembered at that moment. He’d just never cared for anything other than his sister, and in the end, not even her. 

He suddenly felt bad, yanking his hand from her grip like her skin had burned his. He watched as her face fell, her hand retreating back to her lap. “Sorry…” she whispered, eyes flicking downward. He didn’t know why he’d reacted like that, but he knew that it wasn’t fair to her. 

He reached out his hand for her to take, and she accepted. “I’m sorry, too.” He whispered, eyes focusing on the back of her hand, the veins under her skin being so interesting to him, he felt like memorizing them. One running from her wrist, right in the middle, up the back of her hand, splitting into two just under her ring finger. 

“I was so scared, Bucky.” He looked up at her, noticing that they were left alone. He didn’t know where Steve and Becca had gone. In this moment, he didn’t care. He took in her face, right there in front of his. Her lips, her eyes, the rosy tint of her cheeks. “I was so scared you were dead.”

He felt his heart jump in his chest at the affection. It was an unwritten rule - siblings’ best friends were off limits. No matter how beautiful she looked as she sat there, with furrowed eyebrows and every care in the world for him, in that exact moment. 

She was younger, of course, as young as his sister. Five years his junior. It would always be wrong for him to be with her. His heart picked up the pace as she let go of his hand, _too soon_ , for his liking…

He watched as she rose from his bedside to fill his cup with water, before coming back, bringing the straw to his lips. He emptied the cup quickly, a startled gasp leaving him when doctors startled them both. 

“Good to see you alive, Mr. Barnes. We were scared we lost you there for a second.” The man in front of him checked the clipboard at the end of the bed. “How are you feeling? I know you’ve been doing some heavy stuff… You need anything for the pain?”

Bucky felt the cold sweat on his back at that moment. How his _hand_ was clammy. He regretted holding your hand at that moment. He felt repulsive. The glass of water he’d drunk made its way to the floor, on the other side of the bed. 

“Jesus Christ,” the doctor exclaimed, before holding out a bucket underneath him. Bucky finished heaving, expecting her to have left the room already, yet she was still there, rubbing his back. He sniffed, turning away from everyone in the room. 

He wanted to disappear, and never show himself, ever again. 

He wished he hadn’t woken up.

**Author's Note:**

> your feedback keeps me alive!


End file.
